


you have so many years of screw ups ahead

by savingsiriusblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Attempt at Humor, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Emotionally Constipated Harry, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oblivious James Potter, Remus Lupin is So Done, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Supportive Sirius Black, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 02:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savingsiriusblack/pseuds/savingsiriusblack
Summary: James Potter is in the future just long enough to ruin his son’s life.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 77
Kudos: 893
Collections: AYee time travEL





	1. get to know this ponce

**Author's Note:**

> The story title is a quote from Gilmore Girls. Enjoy!

There is no good way to get caught by your should-be-dead father and a couple of his best mates. Still, Harry wishes it hadn’t happened during a post-coital fight with his not-boyfriend.

Luckily, it's after curfew. Harry and Draco are, thankfully, fully clothed and on the way back to their dorms. Unluckily, it's after curfew, which means Draco has no trouble being very _very_ loud.

“You’re the biggest twat in existence, Potter!”

“Shut your fat gob, Malfoy. Filch could be about,” Harry curses and digs around his rucksack for _The Marauder’s Map_.

“Don’t dismiss me like I’m one of your simpering fan girls,” the blond sneers and tries to shove at his Gryffindor companion. Harry grabs hold of Draco’s wrist. He doesn't bother to look up from his bag, which infuriates the blond even more. “I should hex you right now.”

Draco must’ve pulled out his wand then, because someone shouts, “Don’t even try it, Slytherin scum!” 

Suddenly, someone is pulling Harry back by the arms and Draco has a wand in his face. Harry really hopes the prefect wont hex whatever poor sap has tried to get in between their spat.

Harry can’t place the bloke’s face from this position. His skin is deep brown and he's sporting Gryffindor robes. There weren’t many blokes that fit that description at Hogwarts. Harry was one of maybe four.

Draco was staring wide eyed at his assailant. Oddly, he hasn’t raised his wand in defense. The blond’s shocked expression only grows when he turns to focus on the boy holding Harry back.

“Cousin Sirius?” Draco breathes in horror. _What?_ Had Draco been confounded? Sirius was long dead. Sure, Harry was prone to ‘seeing’ the man in the corner of his eyes, but Draco had never given into to such grief-induced delusions.

Tired, confused and weary, Harry turns to look upon the too young and handsome face of his late godfather. Sirius winks at him. Winks!

Harry is about to poke his eye out for making light of this impossible situation when James Potter, _his sodding dead father James Potter_, turns to face them both and asks, “You know this ponce?”

Sirius tilts his head at Harry, as if _he_ had any idea what was going on here. “You said his name was Malfoy earlier, didn’t ya? Must be Cissa’s kid with the great peacock. I heard they were engaged. Poor thing.” He gives a fake shudder.

Draco looks hurt and angry and confused but still manages to ask, “How are you here and l- l- like that!?”

“Hey! No questions from you!” James grumbles and shoots a hex at Draco, who falls gracelessly to the floor. He smiles at Harry. “Don’t worry, future Potter. I’m one of your relatives come from the past! _And_ just in time to save you from this Slytherin slime ball. Isn’t that grand?” he smirks and gives a little pose like some muggle superhero.

Someone clears their throat. “Let’s not tell that to everyone we run into, yeah?” Harry turns to see a young Remus Lupin. He somehow looks both incredibly nervous and completely done with this mess.

“Oh,” Harry breathes. “You’re all here.” 

Remus is eyeing him, suspiciously. The werewolf is most likely putting together why Harry looks too much like James and knows who they are and is alone in the corridors after curfew with a Slytherin who isn’t running away even though he’s 'outnumbered'.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?” James whines. His shoulders deflate comically. Sirius laughs at his best mate’s dramatics. The sound is so warm and familiar that even Draco chokes. This is mistake, because James to turn the Slytherin once again. “What are you still doing here?”

“Prongs, I think you should back off,” Remus reasons, glancing pointedly between Draco and Harry.

“No way in hell, Rem. This punk obviously wants another round.”

This time, Draco does pull out his wand.

“Leave him alone!” Harry snaps.

It would suffice to say that James Potter is more than a little shocked that his would-be-relative is scolding _him_ rather than the Malfoy prat.

Harry pushes between the two and grips Draco’s arm, “Are you alright?”

Draco shrugs him off and glares at the time travelers. “You’ve obviously got a new crisis on your hands, Potter. Don’t worry. I’ll be out your way,” Draco sneers.

“Can’t wait,” Sirius gripes. Remus pinches him.

“Don’t be like this Draco, I need your help.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t want my _teeny tiny brain_ to get in your way,” he mocks.

Harry groans, remembering their fight from earlier. He had, regretfully, declined Draco’s help with Dumbledore’s task because Hermione had already done the brunt of the research. In Draco’s head, this meant Harry believed Hermione was smarter than him. Harry did believe that, of course. Hermione was smarter than everyone. Still, he would never risk his bullocks by voicing the sentiment.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” he scoffs, gathering his things and avoiding eye contact with Harry. “I can help get you off, sure, but my mouth isn’t good for much else, right?” Draco then looks coldly at The Marauders and jabs a finger into Harry’s chest. “I’ll give you lot some space to get to know _this _ponce.”

He storms away, leaving three very uncomfortable time travelers and one distressed not-boyfriend in an awkward silence.

James is staring at Harry like he has hippogriff ears. Sirius looks utterly amused. Remus clears his throat again.

“It seems we’ve, erm, misread the situation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author of this fic loves James Potter, and any characterization of him as an insensitive, childish asshole is purely because it makes her laugh. Hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment!


	2. everybody loves Sirius

Harry tries and fails to coax any useful information out of The Marauders.

The teens are rather single minded. All he gets in response to his reasonable and important questions are, _Why in Merlin’s beard are you shacking up with a Malfoy?_ and _Not that we’re judging you_ and _Answer the question, sprog. I need the dirty details._

Annoyed and frustrated, he delegates the task to Ron and Hermione. His knackered, best friends stand in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room, looking helplessly upon the three stowaways. 

Hermione is the first to take action, because Harry _absolutely refuses_ to talk to either of The Marauders, ever again.

“Do you know how you got here?” 

James smiles at her, “Yeah, we-“

“Of course they do!” Harry scoffs. “Not that they would tell you.” 

“Ohhh kay.” Hermione glances between her friend and the time travelers. “Are you able to get back on your own?”

Remus opens his mouth, but Harry beats him to it, “Not likely. They’re not exactly the types to think long term.”

“Oy! Could you chill out for second?” Ron grumbles and then lets out a yawn. “I’m starting to understand why they kept you in the dark.”

Harry looks at the redhead in betrayal. He huffs, rises from the couch and begins to pace the room.

“I understand that this is a shock for him, but why does he seems so _upset_?” Hermione whispers to Ron. Of course, everyone hears. 

Sirius chips in before Harry can stop him, “Prongs hexed Malfoy.”

Ron and Hermione nod slowly, as if this explained everything. The redhead bumps his fist against James’ knee conspiratorially. “First rule of time travel, mate: don’t attack your son’s swotty boyfriend.”

“I was defending _him_!”

“His son?!”

“He’s not swotty!” The room turns to look at Harry. “I mean, uh, he’s not my boyfriend!” He continues pacing because he _absolutely refuses_ to speak to them.

“Right,” Hermione drawls. “How about this? We’ll ask you a question and you ask us a question.”

“Sounds perfect, love” James winks at the bushy haired brunette, who giggles involuntarily.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake -”

“I’ll start,” Hermione continues. “Did you use a device to time travel or a spell?”

“A mixture of both actually.” Remus sits forward, eager to talk theory despite his earlier reservations. “We reconfigured an old time turner and used a variation of a tracking spell to get it to focus on a specific person in the future. We had trouble, er, figuring out what to use as the target. We needed something that would stabilize the jump.”

“Of course,” Hermione agrees. 

Sirius fakes a yawn and James raises his wand to his head. Both boys were instrumental in constructing the theory of this idea, but had to save face in public, lest anyone thought they put actual effort into something.

Remus continues, “We realized it would be safer to use a relative as the target. Blood magic is the most powerful after all” – The golden trio share a look that does not go unnoticed – “now this time turner works almost like a hound picking up a scent from a cloth. Anyway, James’ relatives were the most obvious choice because,” the werewolf trails off and glances warily between the golden trio. “Of reasons,” he finishes lamely.

Translation: The Blacks were lunatic blood supremacists, the Lupins were Remus’ estranged, werewolf-hating parents, and neither Sirius nor Remus had any plans of having children. Yes, the golden trio knew exactly why they had chosen the Potters.

Neither Ron nor Hermione question why Peter Pettigrew’s relations were not taken into consideration for this adventure. They also do not question his current whereabouts. Harry would surely blow his last fuse.

“Interesting,” she hums. “And of course, you could use James’ parents to return.”

“Exactly,” Remus smiles warmly at her and she beams at him.

“Alright enough flirting,” Sirius huffs, but there’s a grin on his lips. He curls a hand around Remus’ knee. Ron does the same to Hermione. James and Harry gag simultaneously, though neither would admit to it later. “Now it’s our turn to ask the question.”

“What do you want to know?”

“If he’s Prong’s kid,” Sirius pauses dramatically with a devilish smirk on his face. Harry prepares himself for a major, timeline-altering question. The answer to it would surely break the hearts of almost everyone in that room. “Then why’s he’s so hot when his dad looks like the wrong end of bubotuber?”

Ron bursts into raucous laughter, followed closely by the other Gryffindors, minus James, who is currently trying to stab Sirius with his wand.

“Waste of question, Padfoot. We all know Lily’s my future wife.”

“Don’t tell that to Evans,” Sirius mumbles.

“You’re so _young_, Sirius.” Ron’s blue eyes are fond and wistful. Harry understands. For the first time, his godfather’s ever handsome face is free of scars and wrinkles and trauma. However, his expression turns indignant at the red head’s comment. “No, it’s a good thing. The older you would’ve, uh, _will_, like that. Bloody obsessed with his face, that one.”

“Yup. That’s our Padfoot,” James coos, grabbing for Sirius’ cheeks. “Bet he’ll get a good laugh from this when we pop by.”

The golden trio stiffens at the implication. Ron and Harry shoot Hermione their patented ‘what do we do’ look, in much the same way as toddlers would raise their arms when they wanted to be held. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Look, none of you are leaving this castle until we know for sure you won’t muck anything up, like prevent Harry’s birth or induce the rise of the fifth generation of troll kings.” The boys begin to protest, but Hermione silences them with a look. “Now, you three are going to sleep in the Room of Requirement. You’ve already figured out it’s location in your timeline, yes? We’ll meet you there at five tomorrow morning. It’d be best to avoid the other students while we sort all this.” 

“You’re just going to leave us to fend for ourselves?” Sirius pouts.

Hermione gives him a small smile, “You lot know this castle better than we ever could.”

The marauders look a bit miffed at the nod to their secret map, but the golden trio are already shuffling up the stairs.

At the last moment, Ron turns, “By the way Professor Lupin, I mean Remus, I mean er-_anyway_. It may have been different in your time, but the full moon is coming up in about two weeks.” 

“Well that was just, ugh, rude is what it was!” Remus stutters out, after a prolonged silence following the trio’s departure. He was not yet used to having his furry little problem come up in small talk. “How do I know, for that matter, _t__hey_ are not werewolves, hmmm?” 

“Whatever, Moony. Can you believe the way Harry talked to me? What ever happened to respecting your elders?” 

Sirius shrugs, grinning wide, “They liked me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I ever write a fic that requires a thoughtful analysis of character motivations, then Peter Pettigrew would be mentioned more than once. I promise! This is not that fic. Do you like it so far?


	3. the closest draco gets to an apology

The next morning, The Marauders find it acceptable to blow off their debriefing meeting with the golden trio on several grounds.

First and foremost, James is Harry’s father, which meant the bespectacled git should be listening to _him_ and not the other way around.

Next, Remus is apparently their professor. Thus, he was the obvious authority figure in this odd future dynamic.

Finally, anyone who knew The Marauders well enough to know about Moony’s furry little secret, must also know that every rule put forth to the mischief makers is a rule meant to be broken. 

_I’m getting out of this castle and I’m going to meet ‘old Padfoot’ if it kills me!_ James was especially determined to prove himself to the trio after Harry’s lukewarm welcome.

How dare his own son _not_ want to go adventures with him? Even worse, he had been banished to the Room of Requirement like some naughty toddler. _The nerve!_

The new father is so focused on exacting revenge up on his son that he does not notice the Slytherin prefect blocking the statue of the one-eyed witch.

“What are you tossers doing?” His son’s not-boyfriend gestures between the very public corridor and the should-be covert time travelers.

“Don’t fret, ickle Malfoy. We’re just off for quick stroll through Hogsmeade,” James smiles charmingly. _And then Muggle London, or Paris or wherever we sodding want!_

For some odd reason, Remus does not think James’ charms will be enough to deceive the blond and adds, “We want to see if anything’s changed in the village.”

“Why isn’t Scarhead giving you the grand tour, then? Surely, you want some quality time.”

“Scarhead? Ahhh. You mean my _delightful_ son.”

Remus scrutinizes the Slytherin. “Do you know how he got that scar? It looks … painful.” The werewolf’s fingers trail over his own scars hidden beneath the rough wool of his cardigan.

“It hardly matters,” Malfoy grinds out. “You lot should really be making a greater effort _not_ to get caught. Potter’s your best chance at that. Merlin knows he could get away with murder in this castle.”

“We know a bit about not getting caught.” Sirius’ grin is sharp.

“Besides, the sprog is obviously less than thrilled to have his dad hanging about, no matter how young and dashing I am,” James sighs and brings a palm to forehead like a distraught damsel. “Can’t say I blame him for being pissed. Could you imagine if Fleamont was traipsing about the castle back in our time?” He fake shudders.

“I imagine I’d get a bit more sleep,” Remus grumbles. They ignore him.

“Since we’re on the subject, it wouldn’t help Harry’s, er, _mood _to know about our little excursion. Do your dear cousin a favor and keep quiet about this. Maybe you could even _distract_ him?” Sirius winks, suggestively.

James wrinkles his nose. “Feel free not to do that last bit.”

Malfoy scrutinizes the three, most likely trying to decide if they were worth the trouble. James sincerely hopes he thinks they aren't, but less than a few moments later the Slytherin lets out a resigned sigh.

“Harry really hasn’t told you anything, has he?” The Marauders share a look in remembrance of their skipped debriefing meeting. “Look I know the prat is emotionally inept, but he never really learned how to talk you lot, or anyone, for that matter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James huffs. He feels slightly offended on behalf of his future self.

The Slytherin flicks the lens of James frames before he can swot the fingers away. “You wouldn’t leave the tower without your lenses, would you? So why walk into a new world blind?”

James is about to respond with something clever, but Malfoy begins spinning an epic tragedy about a revived Dark Lord and the war he’s brought with him. The Marauders knew about Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, of course, but what kind of wizard could go undefeated for over a decade? Malfoy’s retelling of events was both increasingly terrifying and incredibly vague.

“What does that have to do with us?” Sirius pulls his eyebrows together. “It’s dangerous out there. Fair, but I can’t imagine people have stopped walking about. Why should we?” 

“You don’t have to,” Draco shrugs, but his posture is rigid. _Lying snake._ “if you keep a low profile. In the future you’re all, hmm, _against_ the dark lord. If the wrong the person recognizes you…”

James shares a thoughtful look with his best mates. There was obviously more to this story. Yes, they’re risk takers, but they’re also survivors.

The boys come to an unspoken agreement to remain inside within Hogwarts. They had not traveled twenty years just to die at sixteen. After all, their first time jump _could not_ be their last. 

When Malfoy looks satisfies that he has convinced them, he makes to leave. For some inexplicable reason, James grabs hold of his bicep and is left with the rather unfortunate predicament of explaining why.

What comes out is, “Well er, you gave us a lot to think about, and, um, you didn’t have to. Anyway, last night wasn’t on. You understand.” James gives him a lopsided smile and shuffles his hair a bit. 

Sirius and Remus are shocked. That was the closest James has ever come to an apology. Malfoy must realize this too, because the smile he gives the elder Potter is almost gentle. James looks away, shy. Malfoy send them a small wave and heads off, leaving the boys wondering why he had been up so early anyway.

“Well wasn’t that sweet of you Prongs. Don’t go stealing your sprog’s boy, now.” Sirius coos and wraps an arm around his shoulder. James shoves him off.

They return to the seventh-floor corridor with two figurative and one literal tail between their legs. Sirius often turned into Padfoot to avoid confrontation.

The golden trio stand there looking undeniably concerned. Their arms are full of breakfast food. It looks suspiciously enough to fill three time travelers who haven’t ate a thing since dropping into the future. This is when the guilt really starts to set in.

Hermione’s eyes narrow on the boys who are suspiciously unharmed and obviously not coming out of the Room of Requirement.

Ron, at least, smiles brightly when he sees them. “Thank, Merlin! We thought you guys had gone back or summat. Anyway, did you lot sleep alright?” He then calls out to Harry who is pacing at the far end of the corridor.

Harry reaches the group with a small smile on his face. He hands a goblet of pumpkin juice to Sirius in greeting.

Since landing in 1996, James has not been able to discern a single emotion on his son’s face, but this one was clear: relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James apologized? To a Slytherin? I'll just go ahead and tag this 'character development'. Jk. Thanks for reading!


	4. bugger everything else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now a word from our sponsor, Sirius Black.

The next week finds the Marauders in full reconnaissance mode. Or, at least, it should have. Their days actually alternate between doing covert research and bemoaning the many missed opportunities that wait outside Hogwarts castle in 1996. Nevertheless, the boys horde each scrap of information they learn about the future like goblins.

Unfortunately, a determinedly unhelpful golden trio and the ever-present threat of discovery by the Hogwarts staff leaves them thoroughly unsuccessful. They haven’t learned much beyond what Malfoy told them. They were nowhere near discovering their roles in the war to come.

The boys feel trapped and useless and bored.

By the fourth day, Harry has become so frustrated with their moping that he even helps them prank Snivellus. It was a nasty surprise to learn that the great slug had become a professor. It was only fair to give him in an even nastier one, right?

The charmed silverware wasn’t nearly up to their standards, but hearing the git confess his most embarrassing moments in the Great Hall certainly made Harry laugh_. And that makes all the difference, doesn’t it?_ This future, no matter how vague and boring and frightening, had Harry.

_My godson_, Sirius thinks, with just as much excitement as when Harry had first told him.

Harry hasn’t given Sirius much more details than that, but he cannot find it in himself to be annoyed with the boy’s silence. This was saying quite a bit, given that Sirius could get annoyed with his tea for being too cold or literally any other minor inconvenience.

Apparently, the same can be said of his godson, who was currently moping about his subpar performance in Quidditch practice earlier that day. The boy has been snippy with Prongs ever since. 

Harry claims that James’ idea of a ‘pep talk’ had psyched him out. To be fair, it included a five-minute rant on the history of Potters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Secretly, Sirius thinks that the boy is embarrassed about floundering in front of his father.

_Bit of an overreaction. Prongs must’ve seen him fudge up a few moves before, right? _

Sirius waves that thought away to the place in his mind usually reserved for Moony’s strange flirting tactics, conversations with his brother and other ineffable things. It was too dismal for a moment like this, anyway.

He is sprawled quite lazily across the grass near the black lake, head resting on his godson, _his godson!_ His best mate was skipping rocks a few feet over and Moony had buggered off for a kip or something.

Sirius takes one last perusal of the field to make sure Prong’s disillusionment charm held. He is about to close his eyes for a kip of his own when he notices Harry burning a hole into his would-be father’s back.

“Can I give you some advice, Prongslet?”

Harry rolls his eyes. All the hostility in his face melts away as he looks down at his godfather, even if his eyes are narrowed. It makes Sirius feel very warm. The boy says, “No offense, Padfoot, but I once asked you to pick out some new clothes for me and half of it was leather. The other half were feathers.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t understand fashion.”

“And you do?”

Sirius does not, but who needs to when they have a face like his and a personality to match? He sniffs, “Forget about the past, or I guess the future, whatever. I actually know what I’m talking about this time.”

“Oh, _really_. What’s that then?”

“James Potter,” Sirius shrugs as if it should be obvious. “I’m a bit of an expert in the field.”

“You should broaden your interests.”

“I don’t know what’s been happening between you and your old man,” he pauses, searching his godson’s face for any sign that he was willing to share more than the absolute nothing he has divulged on the matter so far. Sirius guesses it has something to do with Harry’s relationship with Malfoy. He can’t imagine future James has taken it better than his own. “But you don’t have to try so hard to impress him, you know?”

“_Excuse me?!_” Harry squawks.

Sirius chuckles, “Prongs is by default soft on people he loves and a complete prat to everyone else. Really, he’s a lot like your Draco.”

Just yesterday, Sirius witnessed the blond steal a chair from an unsuspecting Ravenclaw, so that his pug-nosed girl friend could prop her feet up while they studied in the library.

“You’ve completely lost me.”

Sirius wraps an arm around his shoulders, and continues as if Harry hasn’t spoken, “But once he loves you _– are you listening, this is good bit –_ it doesn’t matter what you do, or with who. You’re his for good. Bugger everything else.”

Harry doesn’t respond right away to the perplexing comments. His eyes don’t look confused, just thoughtful. After a moment he says, “Can I give you some advice, Padfoot?”

“Shoot.”

“When Remus says he’s ‘down for a nap’, that really means he’s going to stuff his gob with chocolate frogs. Most likely, it's because you've said something unintentionally insensitive.”

Sirius’ answering groan sounds particularly painful against Harry’s laughter.

On Sirius’ way to apologize to his boyfriend, he runs into Harry’s. Malfoy is lurking by the portrait of the fat lady.

When the Slytherin is done squealing from being tackled and Sirius is done laughing, the time traveler says, “O geez, I really should stop teasing you! We’ve already mucked things up between you and the sprog after all.”

Malfoy’s grey eyes, so much like Sirius’ own, scrutinize him. He’s most likely weighing the days he’s spent not talking to his not-so-secret-not-boyfriend against Sirius’ half-arsed apology.

“Don’t fuss about that. Harry and I were fighting before you lot dropped in.”

“Oh,” Sirius frowns. He’s surprised that he’s genuinely sorry to hear that. “For how long?”

“About six years,” Malfoy hums.

Sirius laughs, “That makes sense. I can’t imagine a mini James would get a long easily with a Slytherin. I’m surprised his wife didn’t curb any of that prejudice.” He’s wheedling, obviously. Maybe Draco will slip some information on who that wife might be. He has a guess of course, but…

“No, no, they were fine,” Malfoy says, too quickly. “It was me. I was a…”

“Snobby prat,” Sirius supplies.

Draco nods. His smile is oddly sweet for someone who had just been insulted. “You’ve told me that before, you know? And right after you said-”

“I used to be one too.” Sirius shrugs at Malfoy’s raised eyebrows. Apparently, his guess had been spot on. “It’s only the truth.”

Malfoy’s face crumbles and he starts blubbering, “I was waiting for you. By the portrait, I mean. But, really, I’ve been waiting much longer than that You helped me, you know? I didn’t have anywhere to go, or anyone to trust, but I had you.” The blond shoves a letter into his hands and holds tight. Draco’s eyes are rimmed red. Sirius opens his mouth, eyes impossibly wide, but the boy cuts him off, “Don’t. Please, don’t ask. Just do your cousin a favor and keep this sealed until you get back to your time. _Promise me_, Sirius Black. This could quite literally muck up time and space, but sod it, right? We’re all screwed anyway.”

Fat tears are rolling down Draco’s cheeks, but Sirius can’t see them with his cousin’s face pressed into his robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco defected around summer before fifth year and lived at Grimmauld Place with Sirius for a time. They bonded. :3


	5. doing nothing while the world goes to shit

Remus is a day out from the full moon. His senses are heightened and muscles weak. This is how he justifies eavesdropping on Harry’s extremely private conversations with Hermione.

After all, he can’t help it if he can hear conversations all the way to the dungeons, much less a few book stacks over. Nor can he just leave the library and return at a later time, as that would be too strenuous on his aching form. Really, he’s being forced to listen. And, oh boy, what a terrible burden.

“It’s dangerous Harry!”

“Relax, Hermione. It’s a book. Aren’t you always preaching to us about the joys of reading?”

“It could be cursed!”

“Right. Like my Firebolt was cursed in third year.”

“I was right about your broom!”

“Sirius gave it to me!”

“We couldn’t know that.” Why would Sirius give his own godson a present anonymously? Had it been a prank? Hermione was as cautious as a Gryffindor could be, and more clever than anyone in this castle. Remus thinks Harry should just listen to her about this book until she says, “We had no reason to trust him back then.” 

“It’s a potions textbook, not a trap. It was in the cupboard. Anyone could’ve gotten it.”

“But you did, Harry! It found you like bad omens and tragedy and death eaters always do!” she chokes. Harry must hug her close then because her voice is muffled when she asks, “Do you even care anymore? I feel like we’re doing nothing while the world goes to shit and _they_ find new ways to get at you everyday.”

Harry snorts, presumably at her uncommonly, foul language. Even from here, Remus can tell it was a small, forced thing. He says, “We’ve been putting off Dumbledore’s task, haven’t we? I promise you, Hermione. I’m taking this seriously. Once The Marauders go back, it's full speed ahead on bringing down Lord Voldemort, alright?”

Remus wants to stomp around the corner and demand answers for the obviously dire secrets that are being kept from them, but something cold and heavy keeps him tied to his seat.

“You’ll be alright? I mean, with saying goodbye again…”

“Yes, but I’m glad to get to know them like this, before, well, before everything.”

“Even your dad?” Hermione teases. They’ve all been mocking the father-son duo about how easily they would get into it.

Harry laughs, loud enough that Madam Pince glares in their direction, “Yes, even my dad. _Especially him_.”

It’s good to hear Harry say that so warmly. James has begun to think his son really does hate him despite his mates’ assurances that this was nothing more than teenage angst. Still, the confession does little to seal the hole growing in Remus’ heart.

In a few short minutes, Remus has learned so much about their futures and not nearly enough to make sense of it. Why hadn’t Harry been able to trust Sirius? Were Padfoot and Prongs estranged up until a few short years ago? What horrors could Harry have gone through that a simple book could set Hermione on edge? What could Dumbledore ask a bunch of teenagers to do that involved the Dark Lord?

Remus has more questions than answers. He is tired and could have misheard. This is how he justifies waiting until _after_ the full moon to tell the other marauders about the conversation in the library.

They are just as at a lost as Remus after he retells the story. They are in the Room of Requirement, which thankfully conjured essentials for Remus’ post moon recovery.

“What do Death Eaters want with my son?”

“I don’t know James, but he’s obviously mixed up in some pretty dark stuff.”

“We need to extend our trip. We’ll find out more and-”

“No, James. I think we should go back. It’s the best hope we have for getting rid of the shit bits of this future.”

“How can we change the future if we don’t know more? Padfoot, talk some sense into him.”

“I agree with Moony_. No wait, just listen_. Malfoy junior gave me a letter the other day. I think,” he bites his lip. “I think it might have information about our future.”

Remus stares at him like he’s lost his mind. James tells him so, “Are you daft? Why haven’t you opened it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t until we leave this time. He was really freaked out. I think it’s important.”

“We’re putting all our faith in a Malfoy?”

Sirius shrugs, “I trust the little prick.”

“Who’s got a little prick?” Harry asks, walking into the room with a basket of food.

James, always the example of subtlety and wit, asks, “What’s all this about a cursed book and the dark lord?”

“Who-”

“Moony heard you in the library.” James approaches the boy, almost menacingly. “Listen to me, no son of mine is getting done in by some dark curse. You’re going to throw away that book _and_ you’re going to tell us how to fix this!”

“I,” Harry gulps, eyes flickering around the room. “I can’t have this conversation with you.”

Remus notes how the boys says ‘can’t’ and not ‘won’t’. _What did Malfoy tell us that first morning? Harry never learned how to talk to us?_

“Well that’s too sodding bad!”

“Why does it matter? In a few days you’ll all be gone and, ugh. Why does it matter?”

“Because we care about you, arsehole!”

Harry turns his head away in defiance. “You barely know me.”

“I know you’re a pair of saggy, troll tits.”

“Oh, nice,” Harry guffaws. “Real mature.”

“I also know that you’re not particularly good at, well, anything.” Harry’s face drops in hurt for barely a second, before he scrunches it up in fury. James smiles, cruelly. “Except DADA or Quidditch, and I could still fly circles around you.”

“You want to test that theory?” 

“You’re too sensitive,” James continues. Remus thinks this might be the first time he’s ever ignored such a blatant challenge. “And you trudge about this castle like you’ve got the whole bloody world on your shoulders. I _know_ that you’re distant. And harsh.”

“You’re one to ta-”

“And I love you.”

Harry’s head snaps up so quickly, Remus thinks it might break. He’s looking at his father like it’s the first time he’s ever heard those words. Remus wants to believe it’s impossible, but 1996 has presented them with one shit stain after the other. So, in his heart, he knows the undeniable truth.

Prongs tries to take Harry’s hands into his own, but the boy flinches away. James huffs and storms out of the room as if _he_ had just been brutally insulted by a loved one. Sirius grips Harry’s shoulder before following his best mate. Harry is left looking much too small in the middle of the floor.

“Merlin, he must have been a nightmare to raise,” Harry tries for a joke to break their choking silence. He rests the basket on his cot. Remus grabs his wrists.

“He hates feeling helpless,” Remus explains. “It’s not an excuse. It’s just the truth. Especially when I’m like _this_,” – he waves a hand over his scars and bruises – “all the resentment at everything he can’t do, or _doesn’t know_, comes rushing up in a big, nasty way.”

Remus thinks there has never been a worst time to defend James Potter, but he loved that arsehole even when he was being arsehole. Surprisingly, Harry does not hex him.

“I know.”

“You _know_?” Remus pulls his brows together.

“Yeah. You told me.” Harry sends him a watery grin. “Or, you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you still with me? I love this journey for us. haha. Seriously, thanks for reading!


	6. not the worst start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry gives James a taste of his own medicine and we say goodbye. Goodbye!

Once Moony’s body and Prong’s pride heal, The Marauders are all set for their return trip. Understandably, some involved parties handle it better than others. 

Sirius drapes himself over Ron and Hermione the moment the golden trio enter the Room of Requirement. Harry falls behind, trying to avoid eye contact with James, who's peering straight into him. 

"Merlin! I'll miss you lot," Sirius blubbers into Ron's shoulder. The redhead scrunches his nose at being used as a tissue. Hermione pats awkwardly at the man's head. Sirius pulls back a bit and cups their faces in his palm. "Are you sure you won't come with us? The 50's were a bit rocky for England, but there's the fun, right?"

"The 50's?" Hermione's brows shoot up. "Aren't you going back to your own time?" 

"Yes, of course," Sirius lies. "That's what I just said." 

Hermione's lips purse. She's ready to scold the man on the dangers of time travel, but Ron pulls her towards the couch where Remus is sat. He pats her back in consolation, "I believe this is where our jurisdiction ends, love." 

"And, of course, my specky godson," Sirius beams and wraps the bespectacled boy in a tight hug. Harry presses his nose into the man's neck. He hadn't yet recovered from losing Sirius the first time. There was no guarantee he'd survive it again. "You'll never get a lover with that face, but gosh am I fond of it." On second thought, Harry is better off without him. 

"Is he still on a rampage?" Harry whispers to his godfather. James is still staring at him, waiting. 

"Yes but just a little one," Sirius winks. "Let me worry about your dear papa." He presses three kisses on to Harry's nose. "Just take care of yourself, and your Draco." 

"He's not _mine."_

"Then why is he looking at you all funny?" 

Harry pulls away in confusion. His godfather is smiling at something over his shoulder. He turns to see his not-boyfriend standing by the entryway.

Draco's arms are crossed. He's glowering at everyone as if he hadn't gone out of his way to find out when and where The Marauders would be departing.

"H-have you come to say goodbye?" Harry gulps. They haven't spoken since the time travelers dropped in. 

"No," the blond rolls his eyes. "I did that hours ago. Your sense of punctuality is atrocious, by the way." 

"It's true," Sirius pipes up. Remus comes over to the pull his boyfriend away. 

"Then why are you here?" Harry's eyes widen. "Not that I don't, I mean, I'm glad you're here, it's just - _Oy, don't laugh at me Malfoy!" _

"I'm _here__,_" Draco teases, "because I shouldn't have left you to handle all of this alone on that first night, even if I was upset." He approaches slowly and takes one of Harry's hands in his own. Harry marvels at the sight. "It wasn't on, as they say. You understand." 

Harry did not understand. Judging by the snickers of the time travelers, there was a quite a bit more he did not understand. 

"Now, go make up with your father," Draco commands. "No boyfriend of mine is going to live with _that_ much regret. I'll be in the corner with your lot, pretending like we're not listening."

Harry hovers awkwardly near James for five minutes before either of them speaks. Merlin, would his children be this stubborn too?

“So, er, what," Harry coughs into fist to avoid meeting the man's eyes, "what are your parents going to think when the time turner pulls you lot to them?” 

“They were on holiday in The Bahamas when we buggered off,” James shrugs. “There’s a good chance we end up in the middle of the ocean and drown before they can lecture us.”

“That will save me some trouble,” Harry smirks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James narrows his eyes, overly defensive.

“Nothing,” Harry rushes out in confusion. “I was only jok-”

“This is unbelievable,” James cuts him off. He's so wrapped up in guilt over the way he's treated his son, that the only logical move is to make things much worse. “I bent the laws of time and magic to come see you! The least you could do-”

“To see me?” Harry scoffs, loud enough that their friends no longer have to hide their eavesdropping. “Bullshit.”

“Excuse me," James growls.

“I said that’s a load of bullshit! You traveled to the future for yourself!” Harry seethes. “You are _so self-centered_” – he jabs his finger into the shocked man’s chest –“that after spending months creating what could possibly be the most brilliant piece of time magic _in Wizarding history_, you chose to find out what The Great James Potter will do next! Instead of, I don’t know, stopping a great war or saving sodding Merlin, for all I care!”

A moment of silence.

“You think it’s brilliant?”

Harry slides down the wall and drops his head between his knees. James chuckles and follows him down.

“You’re unbelievable,” Harry mutters into his thighs.

“You’re right,” James admits, rubbing circles across the boy’s back. “I wanted to know about my future more than anything. But I knew that future included you, or at least, a version of you, because I’ve always wanted a load of kids.”

“And you always get what you want.” Harry’s voice is steady, but his bright green eyes are wet. They make James feel sad and curious. Those are dangerous emotions for a time traveler.

“Of course,” he responds confidently. He’s much better at hiding emotions than his son. “I’ll have three boys and two girls. They’ll all be Gryffindors, of course. I’ll play the strict dad. That’s probably why you’re so cross with me all the time, but I think it's a good motivation to cause trouble,” he grins. “I suppose you’re not the worst start.”

“I love you,” Harry says slowly, tasting the truth of it on his lips. James’ breath hitches along with everyone else’s in the room. Harry's lips twitch.“Even though you’re an arrogant snob who is too immature to see past his own nose.”

“Fair,” James smiles.

Harry returns it and continues, “And you walk around like everything will fall into place at your will."

"I've made it this far," he shrugs.

"You act like an open book, but you can be distant. And cruel. And I love you, James Potter.”

Draco heaves out a big sob, breaking the tension in the room. Sirius laughs and pulls his baby cousin close. Ron and Hermione grin at their best mate, eyes sparkling against the light of the fireplace. Remus ducks his head to hide a smile. James laughs, long and true, then throws an arm around the boy’s neck.

“No need to be so sentimental, Harry,” James kisses the boy’s forehead, right over his scar. “We'll see each other soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have given this fic so much love already, and I appreciate it immensely! <3 I wrote the brunt of this work months ago and decided to finish it. I'm trying this new thing where I actually post fics instead of letting them rot on my laptop. Oh boy. That's scary, but I hope this motivates any of you writers to do the same!


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